


beyond tangible things

by kathleenfergie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Family, Friendship, Gen, POV Second Person, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Yavin 4, bullshitting how the force works, i owe my soul to wookieepedia, leia organa is my mama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 13:25:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13525203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathleenfergie/pseuds/kathleenfergie
Summary: "Where are you from?"Luke had asked."Nowhere."You've been abandoned before, can still feel Unkar Plutt's weighty hand gripping your arm to keep you from tearing across the sand toward your parents ship as it flew away. They sold you for drinking money, you know now; maybe you knew it then, too, or the memories that race through you are just another one of Kylo Ren's tricks. Despite the doubt, you feel the same way as you did watching Han's body plummet into the abyss of the star destroyer: abandoned, lost, utterly alone.





	beyond tangible things

**Author's Note:**

> why work on my chapter fic when i can do this lol. 
> 
> finally got around to seeing tlj and as expected, my rey angst came out hard. so this is her after tlj havin ~feels, building a lightsaber, and facing down You Know Who. it's mostly just a character study and i wrote this for me, because i love rey far too much. if you spend your bus rides to work thinking about her we should go for coffee. 
> 
> i switch between referring to kylo ren as his moniker and birth name bc of how i think rey's conflicting thoughts would refer to him in the moment. she ain't got any love for him but like, if i'm gonna stick with what the tlj gave me she's gonna think about him. 
> 
> rey's saberstaff is a headcanon that i've formed due to several works i've read and also just, you know, contextual common sense lol. "bridge walker," was a comm signature i came up with after tfa bc of han. a little too simple, but it's what my heart likes. 
> 
> enjoy, don't judge me too harshly for my tenses and over-flourished second pov writing. it doesn't really have a culminating ending because i didn't have anything to put, but i wanted there to be a parallel of leia and rey in the beginning and end 
> 
> 1 kudos = 1 kiss for Carrie

The first night after landing on Yavin 4, you escort the General to what she deemed as suitable quarters. Leia says nothing, holding onto your arm and using the cane in her other hand to slowly make her way to the bed. Everything is covered in thick layers of dust and you set her down before pulling off the meager blanket and shaking it. You wish, briefly, that you had your lightsaber to cast more light. It lays on the dejarik table in the Falcon, two halves silent and causing an ache inside your chest, incomparable to any feeling you've ever had. 

"I'll be right outside," you tell the old woman softly. 

"You needn't coddle me, Rey," Leia huffs, but wears a small smile nonetheless. 

"He'll find us," you say. "This isn't the most discreet location."

"Snoke's death severed the connection between you and Ben, and I've closed myself off from him. If he comes, it won't be for some time." The General lies down and wrinkles her nose at the poor excuse for a pillow. "I don't need protection from my son."

_But you do_ , you think and know Leia can hear. She rolls her eyes before closing them, pulling the blanket to her chin. You rest her cane against the end of the bed and go to the doorway, flicking off the lights and slipping through to the hall. Searching the adjacent chambers, you gather what padding there is before settling down cross-legged in front of the door.

You close your eyes to the dark and smelly hallway of what was once a rebel base. It could be considered one again, now that what was left of the Resistance had taken up residence, but you imagine your meager group of pilots and technicians wouldn't qualify as any kind of rebellion. Reaching out, you search for Luke, knowing you'll find nothing in return from the oceans of Ahch-To, but you search anyway. He's gone, you felt it that day in the salt and snow, but you long for him anyway. Even if he had been a cranky old man who wanted nothing but for you to leave him alone on that empty island. 

_"Where are you from?"_ He had asked.

_"Nowhere."_

You've been abandoned before, can still feel Unkar Plutt's weighty hand gripping your arm to keep you from tearing across the sand toward your parents ship as it flew away. They sold you for drinking money, you know now; maybe you knew it then, too, or the memories that race through you are just another one of Kylo Ren's tricks. Despite the doubt, you feel the same way as you did watching Han's body plummet into the abyss of the star destroyer: abandoned, lost, utterly alone. 

Maybe that is why you feel Ben's betrayal so keenly, like it was just another person leaving you to the cruelty of the galaxy. You only stew on those thoughts for a small moment, not allowing yourself to get lost in the  _what ifs_  of it all. You ignore how your mind seems to replay the battle with the Praetorian guards and the look in Ben's eyes when you did not take his hand. He used you to usurp that ancient, evil beast and then all but proposed as you cried. 

_"You are nothing. You have always been nothing."_  The words that followed don't matter anymore, you don't care what the monster may feel for you. 

Anger simmers in your belly, hot tears threatening to slip out and burn your cheeks again. You never used to cry, not even on the coldest Jakku nights ( _"...desperate to sleep.")_. You want to growl at Kylo Ren,  _get out of my head_ , but you know he is not there and it is just your own, unkind mind.

_Rey_ , you hear Leia's voice and go to her call. She's taken her hair down from its twisted style and her jewelry sits on a shelf above her head, but she still looks like royalty somehow. The General scoots herself against the wall of the small cot and lifts the blanket, patting the space beside her with a firm hand. Hesitantly, you slip out of your boots and coat before laying down. Her arms wrap around you and you can't remember if you've ever been held like this. The thought pushes the tears from your trembling eyelids and you can't help but croak out a sob. 

"He broke my lightsaber," you wail and know how ridiculous you must sound, but it had been your last connection to Master Skywalker, to the Jedi and any semblance of destiny. 

"I know, my child, I know," she soothes you, one hand petting your hair while the other stays around your torso. "When he left for the temple, Ben took Han's favourite jacket. There are times when I wish I had it again, so that I could pretend he was with me, but the Force goes beyond tangible things.

"Luke is here," she whispers, pressing a light finger to your temple. "And who knows, maybe he'll show up as an annoying, glowing Force ghost. I really wouldn't put it past him."

"Will that happen to me? When I die?" You ask, terrified of the thought of never being free.

"If you are needed," Leia responds, resuming her soothing motions against your hair. "But, Rey, right now all that is needed of you is to rest. Go to sleep. Try not to dream."

It seems like such an impossible task, but eventually the sobs subside and sleep takes you.

* * *

Finn is glad to have you home, he tells you almost every hour of the day, but you grow tired of seeing him leave you to chase after Rose. She isn't unkind, rather captivating in her sweetness and joy. You know that you are not the only one who has lost some things or some people, and you can't begrudge the two of them for growing closer. 

In the hangar one day, Poe Dameron finds you tinkering with the Falcon, face covered in grease from repeatedly wiping one hand across your sweaty brow. There's a wrench clenched between your teeth, both out of convenience and to keep yourself from frowning in the direction of Rose and Finn as you work away.

"I see you've joined The Jealous of Rose and Finn Committee," he quips, smirking before rolling up his sleeves and reaching toward a tangle of singed wires. 

"I wasn't aware one had formed," you say slowly, pulling the wrench from your mouth and raising an eyebrow at the pilot. 

"I thought it was just a solo project, truly, but then you showed up. Meetings are held at lunch in the mess hall; I'll catch you up on the minutes." He winks down at you and returns to the wires, attempting briefly to see if he can make them right again before gripping them in his fist and yanking them out completely.

" _Oi!_ " You jump up to hit his arm and gape at the bundle in his hand. "Do that again and I'll ditch your X-Wing in the outer rim."

"Like you could fly it without BB-8," Poe scoffs. "I'm pretty sure he's on my side."

"I rescued him from a scavenger, he owes me." You smile at Poe, your first genuine smile since coming to this moon. "I'll collect his debt however way I see fit."

"He's still got some coins rattling around from that stint in Canto Bight, you sure that won't suffice?"

Poe manages to dodge your next hit. 

You do end up joining him for lunch, even if it is relatively uneventful. Maybe it'll actually get you to eat regular meals and make Leia happy, her sharp fingers pinching at your thin hips every time you skip meals.

Rose and Finn are recounting his epic fight with Phasma and you do wish that you could have been there to see Finn defeat the captain who used to command the stormtrooper fleet. He'd told you about how Rose had referred to him as " _The_  Finn" when they first met, and you wonder what the 'troopers must call him. Surely the loyal, brainwashed ones kept true to Kylo Ren's  _traitor_  rhetoric, but you can't help but think there must be some that feel Finn's spark and have a legendary name for him, too.

You try not to imagine what they call you. 

* * *

Like Ahch-To, you can feel the balance on Yavin 4. The famed battle and Imperial destruction reigns over the base and leaves whispers around corners, sharp blaster fire sounding in your head with each new turn. But there is the light, too, and your ragtag group fills it anew. 

Rose finds you on your pallet outside Leia's quarters. You do sleep inside some nights, but when you are uneasy and cannot quiet the Force you sit, guarding the General from things that have yet to come. The bouncy woman sits down beside you before thrusting a blueprint into your lap, barely able to hold back her excitement. There is no time to examine what she has given you before Rose starts her explanation. 

"It's a pretty rough design, but I got one of the tech guys to make it, with help from the Jedi texts." Rose waits for a moment to see if you'll respond and you can't even muster any anger at her for poking through your things as you stare down at a lightsaber schematic. "Finn told me about how skilled you are with that staff and I thought this would be perfect for you. I don't know anything about finding kyber crystals or how to bind them to the sabers, but I guess that's why  _you're_  the Jedi."

"Thank you," you manage to get out before quickly adding: "I'm not really a Jedi."

And you aren't, but as you continue to scan the double ended blade laid out in blue and white a feeling simmers in your throat. When you can't figure out the waves that ebb through you some days, Leia likes to claim you're  _"pulling a Han,"_  his flippant comments about  _"Force mumbo-jumbo"_  reflected in your inability to describe your own mind. You blame twenty years of sand and no one to guide you for that.

"What colour do you think it'll be? Blue, like Luke Skywalker's?" Rose asks and you almost laugh, but it catches in your throat when you think of the twin halves still stowed away on the Falcon. 

"No, not blue. That saber was made by Anakin Skywalker; Luke's was green." You pause, thinking then of Kylo Ren's dramatic weapon. "Red is for the Sith. Maybe purple?"

"Maybe," she agrees quietly. "Orange would suit the Resistance."

You have to smile at that, thinking of Poe and his flaming orange jumpsuit. 

Finn brings up the blueprint at lunch the next day and you frown at him. It wasn't decided that it was a secret, but it surely wasn't a conversation to bring up while you stuff sweet fruit from Yavin's jungle into your mouth.

"How long do you think it will take to build it?" He asks, voice soft at your warning look. 

"The hilt will be easy if I can find all the right parts, but I've never even  _heard_  of kyber crystals before last night, let alone where to find them." 

"Rose was able to translate the schematics from the Jedi texts, surely there's got to be something in there about the crystals."

"Say I do construct the saber and manage to locate the crystals, do you think Leia would let me off this moon for one second?" You have to keep yourself from hissing the words across the table, your heads all bent together in discussion. 

"I'm kind of the King of Risky Plans and Quick Aircraft Escapes, you know," Poe adds finally. "But, the General is Force sensitive. She'll know about any plan Rey has before she gets one foot out the door."

"We have to  _try_ ," Rose whispers emphatically and you regret all your previous ill will toward her. "For Rey. For the Resistance. The Jedi can't rise again if she can't fight Kylo Ren."

The mention of the new Supreme Leader sends you flying out of your chair, glaring down at the trio around you. 

"I'll kill him with my bare hands if I kriffing have to," you spit before marching out of the mess hall. 

You make it halfway to Leia's chambers before the tears come, dirty hands rubbing at your eyes as you stumble through the too-dark hallways. One palm thrusts out and opens the door to the quarters. You find Leia inside, sitting calmly on the cot with your saber design laid out in front of her. 

"Poe was right," she tells you with some mirth laced in her voice, but when she looks up her face is full of warmth. "But that doesn't mean I won't help you."

* * *

You go Ilum, the first of three planets known to once hold Kyber crystals and the destination for any young Jedi ready to build their saber. Leia told you it would be partially destroyed, the Empire having used it to mine crystals for the Death Star. You muse that the planet now looks like a sun and moon shed into each other, one side carved and picked through to the magma core while the other was white and bleak.

Circling it just below the cloud layer, you search for cave openings a safe distance away from the churning lava and debris. You could see large parts of a star destroyer and other small ships strewn about the carved half, but anything else was likely covered in snow. If you were still a scavenger, you'd eat heartily for weeks off the ship's parts. The itch to turn the Falcon toward the battered hulls reminds you that you will always be a scavenger, Master or none.  

Chewie gives you a grunt for good luck and you smirk in his direction. He doesn't need to accompany you anymore, but he does and it's a soothing comfort to fly with him.   
The Force tells you nothing as you pick a random spot to land, the jagged mouth of a cave with a clear path seeming promising. You want to laugh at how maze-like the tunnels feel, as if they echo how the Force likes to run its way through your mind in nonsensical patterns.

Wandering through, you beg your mind to grasp onto something, to give you an answer. It does nothing but crush your chest, the weight of it slowing you down as the darkness grows in the tunnel. 

A rush of wind carries a whisper past you: " _Rey._ "

You think at first it's Master Luke's voice or Maz's back in that basement. It also sounds like your mother, like Leia, like  _Han_. It's many different voices all at once, whispering your name as they pass and pull you deeper into the planet.

And then, _"Scavenger."_  It could be Kylo Ren or Snoke, possibly even Unkar Plutt.

You don't let your mind respond to that call. It wants you to go down one side of a fork and you ignore it, following the Light. You smell the ocean from your dreams and feel hot sand under your feet. 

You think you feel Chewie beckon you but it's from behind you, back on the surface.  _"Rey, you've been in there for two days,"_  you hear. Chewie couldn't use the Force, but he knew you could always hear him if he calls loud enough. 

Two days seems like an impossible marker for how long you've been in the caves. It felt like only hours. You frown but continue on, letting the invisible rope tied round your waist carry you further. You've been rambling around in pitch black but for a moment you spot light, twinkling in and out of existence like a star, a beacon. 

The tunnel ends and opens into a surprisingly warm cave, walls and ceiling cracked, jagged stone adorning every side. There's a vein directly in front of you that sheds the flickering light and sings so strongly of the Force that you're surprised you couldn't feel it all the way back on Yavin 4. Moving to touch the stone wall, it splits open and reveals two crystals no bigger than a child's palm. Grabbing the knife tucked into your belt, you pry the crystals from their home. It feels like you have two planets nestled in your palm, the weight of them fluctuating with every second. 

You raise your hands close to your face and the light grows and no longer flickers, crystals throbbing in your hand. A colour starts to emerge and you fear for a moment that they might turn red. You knew it was foolish to think that in the history of the galaxy only Darksiders had red sabers, but you know nothing of history beyond Kylo Ren and Darth Vader.

Master Luke is not with you in the cavern, but his voice rings through the bright pulses of energy anyway. 

_"Well done, Rey from Nowhere."_

The crystals shine yellow like sunbeams.

Chewie just about kills you when you emerge into the blinding white of the snowy surface with his crushing hug. You're lifted off the ground and all the air in your lungs heaves out in mist. You manage to gasp out his name and he puts you down, but still keeps one gigantic hand on your shoulder. 

"How long has it been?" You ask, breathing in sharp, cold air on your way back into the Falcon. 

"Almost a week," he responds. "Leia's commed you forty times."

"Kriff," you mutter. You won't listen to the messages, knowing they're all probably full of the General demanding you return home followed by a threat. Leia was quite fond of threats. Still holding the glowing crystals in one hand, you go to the table where the half constructed hilt of your saber lays, the broken one stowed away. You open the padded tin next to it and place the yellow crystals inside, careful to not jostle them too much. 

Going to the dashboard, you open up your comm system to the Resistance channels.

"This is Bridge Walker. Coming home with the payload," you say clearly and end your transmission, listening to static play back at you. 

When a response comes through, you do not hear the voice you expected. 

"Is your handle dedicated to Han Solo?" Kylo Ren's speaking to you through the comm, metallic tone almost amused. "Or your poor excuse for a master?"

You switch off the comm quickly, immediately preparing the Falcon for take-off. Chewie straps in beside you and growls. You glance back into the main space of the ship to where your saber sits and stand, shaking. 

"Send as many transmissions to the Resistance as you can and get back to Yavin quickly," she commands. "He's going to come for us."

_For me,_  you think and it is not a romantic or doomed thought. Simply the truth. 

You've never built a lightsaber before this, let alone installed Kyber crystals. The mechanical parts were already together, all the hilt needed was to connect the crystals to emitter matrix and close the inner workings. It wasn't something to be done on the fly but you weren't going to duel Kylo Ren with your fists, no matter how deeply you yearned to hit him. You haven't had any further training than what you learned on Ahch-To and this all seems to become more of an impossible situation.

Working quickly, you install the crystals into each end of the hilt, hoping desperately that the meager power source you were able to find among the scraps of the base proved useful.

For the first time in your life, you pray in earnest, and screw the weapon's halves together. You let your mind fall silent and close your eyes, letting the Force sweep around you. Every nerve in your body is afraid and yet calm at the same time, both hands clenched around the hilt. 

"Please work," you whisper into the quiet ocean of energy before pressing the activator button. 

The distinct hum you have not heard in months, except in your dreams, fills the cabin. You open your eyes to beaming yellow blades and cry. 

* * *

You are still crying when Chewie manages to land the Falcon outside the base, skillfully dodging TIE fighters as they whiz by with their screeching shots. They fire in your direction but never directly at you, most likely commanded to do so. Ren's Force signature is strong amongst the whooshing X-Wings and First Order ships. His own vessel is not in the sky and you search the jungle plain for him, reaching out to find your friends and Leia. The General is tired and panicked, and you send a wave of calm in her direction, despite not feeling any yourself.

You do not tell her that you are about to kill her son. Or  _try_ , really; you don't actually have any confidence that you will win. 

The Light and the Dark swirl within you as the battle rages, Chewie letting out a guttural cry as he surges toward the group of stormtroopers and Resistance members fighting on the ground. The sharp bolts of the bowcaster fly among the green sea of battle, blood and dirt on every surface.

Following the Force toward Kylo Ren, you find him cutting down a group of engineers. He does not notice you, unmasked face curled into a snarl.

" _Ben!_ " You bellow across the plain, but you do not hear your own voice, Han Solo's deep timbre calling out for his son in that dark cavern of a ship. Leia, young and tired, chastising him for the trouble he causes; Luke crying among the burning remains of his temple; Snoke whispering inside the lonely recesses of his mind. You boot up your saberstaff and twirl it, letting the Force flow between you and the weapon as he advances on you. His arrogant saber is lifted high and comes down toward you with all the power he knows.

The fight does not, cannot, compare to your first duel on Starkiller. It is calculated and difficult, both of your sabers locking many times in stalemates of push and pull. There is no high ground unless you were to climb a tree, but it would do nothing to help you. Kylo Ren attempts to enter your thoughts but you have spent your time since Crait building every defense you can. Your mind may not be a fortress, but without the bond he cannot get in. 

"You should have joined me," he spits as your weapons clash together again and again. The words are angry, but hollow, his theatrics all a pretense.

"I would have killed you in your sleep," you respond blankly, palm outstretched with a Force push. Ben skids back a few feet but his assault doesn't waver, slashing strikes narrowly staved off. One barely misses your face, as if he were trying to scar you in the same way he was, but you don't trust that he would not split your skull in two. 

"You're no better than Luke Skywalker, then," Kylo grits out, still advancing. It's annoying that he does not tire. 

Anger swells inside you and you think,  _yes, I'll never be Luke_ , extinguishing one half of your blades, holding yellow in one palm against crackling red. You hold Ren's gaze and drive a knife up through his ribs, slipped from an arm band while he was too engulfed in his rage. It slides easily through the dark wool of his cape and tunic, the gap between his armour and ridiculously high breeches all too noticeable. You know you strike true when you have to fling his saber away to keep it from cutting off one of your extremities as it falls from his grip. 

Ben says your name, weakly, and you push the blade farther into his flesh, hot blood coursing around your fist. He probably imagined his death to be glorious, at the end of a saber or in a mighty explosion; something dramatic. Not from a small knife in the hand of a small girl. You hold your position until you feel the Force slip from his body, all the strength he had to keep himself standing gone with it. Kylo Ren's eyes fade and he crumples at your feet, lightsaber hilt discarded in the trees. 

You stand there and cannot let go of the knife, saber dead at your side. You must stand there for hours as the sounds of battle dissipate. You don't know if you've won (you don't know if you  _care_ ). 

The Resistance must have, because you hear rustling in the jungle and the tiny form of Leia comes through. She's weak, you feel, holding onto her cane and using all her worldly grace not to stumble. She says nothing when she sees her son's body, only looks at you, covered in blood and shaking. 

Leia does not sob for her child, only lowers herself into the grass, hands on her knees with wet eyes. Slowly, as if you have to pry your limbs from their spot, you go and sit next to her. You try to wipe the blood from your hand, but it has dried and stains your skin. 

"I thought I would be glad," she whispers. "But all I can feel is imbalance. The last Jedi with no Siths to battle anymore."

"I am not a Jedi," you tell her. "I never was."

"Maybe that's for the best," Leia sighs, and only then does she begin to wail. All you can do is hold her.


End file.
